


Man of Many Talents

by jhdrabbles (jaclynhyde)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, ffxvsmallsecretsanta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaclynhyde/pseuds/jhdrabbles
Summary: Weskham serves an unusual patron.





	Man of Many Talents

**Author's Note:**

> For @ardynium for the ffxvsecretsanta. Happy holidays, and thank you for prompting this! It was a delight to write Weskham and Ardyn interacting (and maybe even a little healing). Thank you as always to the majestic vanishinghitchhiker for betaing!

Weskham was wiping down the bar when the man sauntered up to it, smiling pleasantly as he caught Weskham's eye. A man who stood far afield from the fashion trends of Altissia—or, perhaps, one who had simply piled on every trend for the last several decades at once. And any man who took that much care to look charmingly unkempt, with distinctive eyeliner only emphasizing his keenly intelligent eyes, was one to watch out for.

“Welcome to Maaghos,” said Weskham, letting his voice ease into the warm tones of a sympathetic bartender. "Is it your first time in Altissia?"

The man's smile was lazy. "Only the first in far too long." An Imperial, Weskham noted, handing him a menu. Hardly unusual for a visitor, especially in these days, and yet... "What a _charming_ city Altissia is," he said, fingertips trailing over the daily specials. "Truly blessed by the Tidemother. The canapé is a specialty, is it not? I'll have that, and the fettini."

"I see Maaghos' reputation is alive and well." Weskham reached under the counter, pulling out a vintage particularly popular in Niflheim. It had seen quite a lot of use, lately. "Have some on the house. In honor of your return."

"Not only your restaurant's. You're a man of many talents, Mr. Armaugh."

It had been many years since Weskham had sought out danger, since he had protected his friend and king with weapons instead of words. And yet, the instinct never truly left him—the adrenaline that set his hands to shaking when he heard the harsh shout of an MT, that caused his heartbeat to quicken when he sensed the proximity of a predator. "I'm flattered," he said with a chuckle. "But I certainly do my best work here."

"There's no need to be modest. It is your name spoken of in the same breath as that of your esteemed Secretary Claustra." Ah. Weskham relaxed, just a fraction, as he began to prepare the meal. Those particular rumors, he'd had ample opportunity to deflect. 

"She is indeed a good friend of mine. And one who has my ear for wine pairings, not politics."

"Of course, I meant no offense!" And as Weskham prepared his food, he made pleasant small talk: asking of festivals, fishing spots, the display of the Oracle's wedding dress. His meal was quickly finished—it was an odd time of day for customers, leaving Weskham with no other distractions—and he presented the plate to the man with a smile.

"Oh, this is _heavenly!_ " he exclaimed, eyes blissfully closed as he took a bite. "Truly a meal fit for a _king_."

A meal fit for a king, it had been. Years ago, with improvised ingredients, served to a dear friend by the campfire.

A day ago, served to a dear friend's son.

The man leaned closer, pushing his plate aside. "But I haven't even introduced myself, have I? My deepest apologies. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, at your service."

Weskham's hand slipped, suddenly, wrist brushing against the heated pan for just a moment too long.

Izunia tsk'd, reaching out to catch his wrist before he could react. "Now do be careful."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," said Weskham, eyes locked on the chancellor's.

"You needn't worry," said Izunia, and the peculiar warmth of his fingers almost eclipsed the pain of his burn. "Everything will work out for the best. I'm _certain_ of it."


End file.
